Our poor nags were something like the cattle, pretty hungry and stiff.
They put their heads down to the thick green gra.s.s, and went in at it with a will.
"Bring your saddles along with you," father said, "and come after me.
I"ll show you a good camping place. You deserve a treat after last night"s work."
We turned back towards the rocky wall, near to where we had come in, and there, behind a bush and a big piece of sandstone that had fallen down, was the entrance to a cave. The walls of it were quite clean and white-looking, the floor was smooth, and the roof was pretty high, well blackened with smoke, too, from the fires which had been lighted in it for many a year gone by.
A kind of natural cellar had been made by scooping out the soft sandstone behind a ledge. From this father took a bag of flour and corn-meal. We very soon made some cakes in the pan, that tasted well, I can tell you. Tea and sugar too, and quart pots, some bacon in a flour-bag; and that rasher fried in the pan was the sweetest meat I ever ate in all my born days.
Then father brought out a keg and poured some rum into a pint pot. He took a pretty stiff pull, and then handed it to us. "A little of it won"t hurt you, boys," he said, "after a night"s work."
I took some--not much; we hadn"t learned to drink then--to keep down the fear of something hanging over us. A dreadful fear it is. It makes a coward of every man who doesn"t lead a square life, let him be as game as he may.
Jim wouldn"t touch it. "No," he said, when I laughed at him, "I promised mother last time I had more than was good for me at Dargo Races that I wouldn"t touch it again for two years; and I won"t either. I can stand what any other man can, and without the hard stuff, either."
"Please yourself," said father. "When you"re ready we"ll have a ride through the stock."
We finished our meal, and a first-rate one it was. A man never has the same appet.i.te for his meals anywhere else that he has in the bush, specially if he has been up half the night. It"s so fresh, and the air makes him feel as if he"d ate nothing for a week. Sitting on a log, or in the cave, as we were, I"ve had the best meal I"ve ever tasted since I was born. Not like the close-feeling, close-smelling, dirty-clean graveyard they call a gaol. But it"s no use beginning on that. We were young men, and free, too. Free! By all the devils in h.e.l.l, if there are devils--and there must be to tempt a man, or how could he be so great a fool, so blind a born idiot, as to do anything in this world that would put his freedom in jeopardy? And what for? For folly and nonsense. For a few pounds he could earn with a month"s honest work and be all the better man for it. For a false woman"s smile that he could buy, and ten like her, if he only kept straight and saving. For a bit of sudden pride or vanity or pa.s.sion. A short bit of what looks like pleasure, against months and years of weariness, and cold and heat, and dull half-death, with maybe a dog"s death at the end!
I could cry like a child when I think of it now. I have cried many"s the time and often since I have been shut up here, and dashed my head against the stones till I pretty nigh knocked all sense and feeling out of it, not so much in repentance, though I don"t say I feel sorry, but to think what a fool, fool, fool I"d been. Yes, fool, three times over--a hundred times--to put my liberty and life against such a miserable stake--a stake the devil that deals the pack is so safe to win at the end.
I may as well go on. But I can"t help breaking out sometimes when I hear the birds calling to one another as they fly over the yard, and know it"s fresh air and sun and green gra.s.s outside that I never shall see again. Never see the river rippling under the big drooping trees, or the cattle coming down in the twilight to drink after the long hot day.
Never, never more! And whose fault is it? Who have I to blame? Perhaps father helped a bit; but I knew better, and no one is half as much to blame as myself.
Where were we? Oh, at the cave-mouth, coming out with our bridles in our hands to catch our horses. We soon did that, and then we rode away to the other cattle. They were a queer lot, in fine condition, but all sorts of ages and breeds, with every kind of brand and ear-mark.
Lots of the brands we didn"t know, and had never heard of. Some had no brands at all--full-grown beasts, too; that was a thing we had very seldom seen. Some of the best cattle and some of the finest horses--and there were some real plums among the horses--had a strange brand, JJ.
"Who does the JJ brand belong to?" I said to father. "They"re the pick of the lot, whose ever they are."
Father looked black for a bit, and then he growled out, "Don"t you ask too many questions, lad. There"s only four living men besides yourselves knows about this place; so take care and don"t act foolishly, or you"ll lose a plant that may save your life, as well as keep you in cash for many a year to come. That brand belongs to Starlight, and he was the only man left alive of the men that first found it and used it to put away stock in. He wanted help, and told me five years ago. He took in a half-caste chap, too, against my will. He helped him with that last lot of cattle that you noticed."
"But where did those horses come from?" Jim said. "I never hardly saw such a lot before. All got the JJ brand on, too, and nothing else; all about three year old."
"They were brought here as foals," says father, "following their mothers. Some of them was foaled here; and, of course, as they"ve only the one brand on they never can be claimed or sworn to. They"re from some of Mr. Maxwell"s best thoroughbred mares, and their sire was Earl of Atheling, imported. He was here for a year."
"Well, they might look the real thing," said Jim, his eyes brightening as he gazed at them. "I"d like to have that dark bay colt with the star.
My word, what a forehand he"s got; and what quarters, too. If he can"t gallop I"ll never say I know a horse from a poley cow."
"You shall have him, or as good, never fear, if you stick to your work,"
says father. "You mustn"t cross Starlight, for he"s a born devil when he"s taken the wrong way, though he talks so soft. The half-caste is an out-and-out chap with cattle, and the horse doesn"t stand on four legs that he can"t ride--and make follow him, for the matter of that. But he"s worth watching. I don"t believe in him myself. And now ye have the lot."
"And a d----d fine lot they are," I said, for I was vexed with Jim for taking so easy to the bait father held out to him about the horse. "A very smart crowd to be on the roads inside of five years, and drag us in with "em."
"How do you make that out?" says father. "Are you going to turn dog, now you know the way in? Isn"t it as easy to carry on for a few years more as it was twenty years ago?"
"Not by a long chalk," I said, for my blood was up, and I felt as if I could talk back to father and give him as good as he sent, and all for Jim"s sake. Poor Jim! He"d always go to the mischief for the sake of a good horse, and many another "Currency" chap has gone the same way. It"s a pity for some of "em that a blood horse was ever foaled.
"You think you can"t be tracked," says I, "but you must bear in mind you haven"t got to do with the old-fashioned mounted police as was potterin"
about when this "bot" was first hit on. There"s chaps in the police getting now, natives or all the same, as can ride and track every bit as well as the half-caste you"re talking about. Some day they"ll drop on the track of a mob coming in or getting out, and then the game will be all up."
"You can cut it if you like now," said father, looking at me curious like. "Don"t say I dragged you in. You and your brother can go home, and no one will ever know where you were; no more than if you"d gone to the moon."
Jim looked at the brown colt that just came trotting up as dad finished speaking--trotting up with his head high and his tail stuck out like a circus horse. If he"d been the devil in a horsehide he couldn"t have chosen a better moment. Then his eyes began to glitter.
We all three looked at each other. No one spoke. The colt stopped, turned, and galloped back to his mates like a red flyer with the dogs close behind him.
It was not long. We all began to speak at once. But in that time the die was cast, the stakes were down, and in the pool were three men"s lives.
"I don"t care whether we go back or not," says Jim; "I"ll do either way that d.i.c.k likes. But that colt I must have."
"I never intended to go back," I said. "But we"re three d----d fools all the same--father and sons. It"ll be the dearest horse you ever bought, Jim, old man, and so I tell you."
"Well, I suppose it"s settled now," says father; "so let"s have no more chat. We"re like a pack of old women, blessed if we ain"t."
After that we got on more sociably. Father took us all over the place, and a splendid paddock it was--walled all round but where we had come in, and a narrow gash in the far side that not one man in a thousand could ever hit on, except he was put up to it; a wild country for miles when you did get out--all scrub and rock, that few people ever had call to ride over. There was splendid gra.s.s everywhere, water, and shelter.
It was warmer, too, than the country above, as you could see by the coats of the cattle and horses.
"If it had only been honestly come by," Jim said, "what a jolly place it would have been!"
Towards the north end of the paddock was a narrow gully with great sandstone walls all round, and where it narrowed the first discoverers had built a stockyard, partly with dry stone walls and partly with logs and rails.
There was no trouble in getting the cattle or horses into this, and there were all kinds of narrow yards and pens for branding the stock if they were clearskins, and altering or "faking" the brands if they were plain. This led into another yard, which opened into the narrowest part of the gully. Once in this, like the one they came down, and the cattle or horses had no chance but to walk slowly up, one behind the other, till they got on the tableland above. Here, of course, every kind of work that can be done to help disguise cattle was done. Ear-marks were cut out and altered in shape, or else the whole ear was cropped off; every letter in the alphabet was altered by means of straight bars or half-circles, figures, crosses, everything you could think of.
"Mr. Starlight is an edicated man," said father. "This is all his notion; and many a man has looked at his own beast, with the ears altered and the brand faked, and never dreamed he ever owned it. He"s a great card is Starlight. It"s a pity he ever took to this kind of life."
Father said this with a kind of real sorrow that made me look at him to see if the grog had got into his head; just as if his life, mine, and Jim"s didn"t matter a straw compared to this man"s, whoever he was, that had had so many better chances than we had and had chucked "em all away.
But it"s a strange thing that I don"t think there"s any place in the world where men feel a more real out-and-out respect for a gentleman than in Australia. Everybody"s supposed to be free and equal now; of course, they couldn"t be in the convict days. But somehow a man that"s born and bred a gentleman will always be different from other men to the end of the world. What"s the most surprising part of it is that men like father, who have hated the breed and suffered by them, too, can"t help having a curious liking and admiration for them. They"ll follow them like dogs, fight for them, shed their blood, and die for them; must be some sort of a natural feeling. Whatever it is, it"s there safe enough, and nothing can knock it out of nine-tenths of all the men and women you meet. I began to be uneasy to see this wonderful mate of father"s, who was so many things at once--a cattle-stealer, a bush-ranger, and a gentleman.
Chapter 6
After we"d fairly settled to stay, father began to be more pleasant than he"d ever been before. We were pretty likely, he said, to have a visit from Starlight and the half-caste in a day or two, if we"d like to wait.
He was to meet him at the Hollow on purpose to help him out with the mob of fat bullocks we had looked at. Father, it appears, was coming here by himself when he met this outlying lot of Mr. Hunter"s cattle, and thought he and old Crib could bring them in by themselves. And a mighty good haul it was. Father said we should share the weaners between the three of us; that meant 50 Pounds a piece at least. The devil always helps beginners.
We put through a couple of days pleasantly enough, after our hardish bit of work. Jim found some fish-hooks and a line, and we caught plenty of mullet and eels in the deep, clear waterholes. We found a couple of double-barrelled guns, and shot ducks enough to last us a week. No wonder the old frequenters of the Hollow used to live here for a month at a time, having great times of it as long as their grog lasted; and sometimes having the tribe of blacks that inhabited the district to make merry and carouse with them, like the buccaneers of the Spanish Main that I"ve read about, till the plunder was all gone. There were scrawls on the wall of the first cave we had been in that showed all the visitors had not been rude, untaught people; and Jim picked up part of a woman"s dress splashed with blood, and in one place, among some smouldering packages and boxes, a long lock of woman"s hair, fair, bright-brown, that looked as if the name of Terrible Hollow might not have been given to this lonely, wonderful glen for nothing.
We spent nearly a week in this way, and were beginning to get rather sick of the life, when father, who used always to be looking at a bare patch in the scrub above us, said--
"They"re coming at last."
"Who are coming--friends?"